


Under Glass

by run_sure_footed



Series: Before Kipo [13]
Category: Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (Cartoon)
Genre: (which is respected but very sudden), Breathplay, Choking, Cloaca, Crying, Depression, First Kiss, Jealousy, M/M, Mating Season, Non-Human Genitalia, Penetrative Sex, Self-Esteem Issues, Weird Biology, assuming that people are going to murder him is Just What Harris Does, non mammalian genitalia, sudden refusal right before sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27408064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/run_sure_footed/pseuds/run_sure_footed
Summary: These idiot Frogs have been doing this for almost a decade, and yet somehow it took them this long to get here.
Relationships: Harris/Jamack (Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts)
Series: Before Kipo [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1878325
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	Under Glass

Harris had been expecting this for years, of course. Was honestly a little surprised that it hadn’t happened sooner, and he couldn’t help wondering if he was at least partially to blame. Not that he thought anyone at the pond _knew_ about all the sex he was having with Jamack—and outside mating season, at that—but simply that Jamack’s association with him made Jamack less desirable.

But it had finally happened. Jamack had been invited to stay at the Pond during mating season for the first in their lives. He had been approached by a potential mate. It had only been a matter of time. Inevitable, really. Jamack had finally made it, the way he was always meant to, _despite_ Harris.

That didn’t make the smirking, knowing looks on everyone’s faces any easier to bear—not that the other Frogs usually looked at Harris with particular kindness.

He’d been avoiding Jamack and Kwat as much as possible. When he did see them, he knew he was surly and snappish to the point of vulgarity, but he couldn’t seem to keep himself in check. Not about this. Not even after a lifetime of practice. No, it was better to avoid them if he couldn’t control himself.

Jamack caught up with Harris as Harris drove the car out of the Mod Frog garage and out onto the lily pads. He'd been even more ornery than usual, and Jamack was sure the offer he'd gotten had something to do with it. He hadn't really expected jealousy. Either Harris was jealous of his potential mate for being able to openly pursue him—which seemed unlikely—or Harris was jealous of him for attracting a mate. He'd figured Harris would have come to terms with that already, but maybe it was different now that both of his friends had the option of staying at the pond through mating season.

"Were you just going to leave without me? We're both on patrol tonight." Truthfully, with this new opportunity, Jamack could have gotten out of any patrols he wanted for the duration of mating season, but there was no way he was going to be extra horny and _not_ find some alone time with Harris. He wasn't a masochist.

Harris froze, just for a second. He was glad that his back was to Jamack, because he couldn’t stop a brief grin of delight from spreading across his face.

He quashed it a moment later. No, this was _pity._ Jamack felt sorry for him, so he was making a point of going out with Harris one last time.

Harris’ eyes narrowed and he didn’t turn around. “Fine. Get in.” He automatically, without thinking, slid into the passenger seat. His stomach lurched and churned. He reminded himself that it was just a few hours. He’d survived worse, far worse.

Jamack got in the driver's seat (where he belonged) and let the dragonfly do most of the work to get them out of the Pond. Harris kept his head turned away and his body language was cold. Jamack looked over at him a few times, but even getting some distance from the Pond and the other Mod Frogs didn't lighten his mood.

Jamack turned the wheel to guide the car in a different direction than they usually went. If he wanted to take them to their little hideaway, their hidden bedroom, he would have turned the other way. But he'd been working hard to get something ready for Harris before mating season was over and he'd finally gotten everything done. It had taken a lot of time, and a lot of work, and a lot of _risk_ , but it had been worth it. Hopefully. If Harris liked it.

“Jamack, you missed the—“ Harris slammed his mouth shut on the rest of his snarky comment. Of course Jamack wasn’t headed to the place they fucked. Why would he?

Jamack frowned when Harris abruptly shut up. "I've got somewhere I'd rather take you." He wanted to lighten the mood, he wanted to help Harris forget all about the stress and unhappiness he went through every mating season, but he wasn't sure if he could. This was something Harris had to live with and Jamack couldn't fix it. He could fix almost every problem he had with words, or bribes, or trading secrets, or violence, but there was nothing he could do to make Harris just as accepted as the rest of the Frogs at the Pond. Nothing he could do to make Harris desirable to other mates. And unless he could offer that...well, he couldn't offer him much.

“Mm-hmm,” Harris agreed distantly, listlessly. He turned his head, his whole body, to stare out the side window. Not at all helpful while on ‘patrol,’ but...

And he could _still_ see Jamack. The car was simply not large enough for him to avoid seeing Jamack.

He could see that Jamack wasn’t scanning their surroundings, either. He looked like he had a specific destination in mind and was focused on getting there, but where? Neither their old garage or their newer room with the bed were in this direction.

Had Jamack brought him out here to kill him? There was a smile twitching at the corners of Jamack’s mouth, so he didn’t think so...but it also wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. If Jamack took a mate, Harris would be a loose end, able to blackmail Jamack with the information he had on him.

Harris would have to be ready to fight—or maybe he _shouldn’t_. Maybe he should just give in to the inevitable. Despite his own ferocity, he knew he’d only lived this long because of Jamack and Kwat. He owed Jamack his life a thousand times over—was it not right that he take it?

He also owed Jamack for almost all the pleasure in his life, pleasure he would surely never feel again. Yes. Perhaps this was best, after all.

But, no. No, that couldn’t be right, either. Why would Jamack take him to a specific place to kill him?

It took them a little longer to get to their destination. Jamack stopped the dragonfly in front of a thickly overgrown area. He'd found this place by accident while riding over on a dragonfly. The gleam of glass and metal had caught his eye and he'd found...something perfect. He hadn't known he'd wanted it until he found it.

"Come on.” Jamack let the dragonfly sit with the car, just barely off the road, hopefully tucked far enough in the overgrowth to not attract any attention.

He led the way through the thick vines and enormous leaves.

There was a little path that Jamack was familiar with that led them to a huge structure. It was an enormous building with a metal frame. The rest of it was made of glass. Jamack turned to look at Harris as he took it in.

Inside the glass building was a tree that had grown right through the roof, breaking through to the sky above. Surrounding the tree was a pond. The water was still and clear, studded with giant lily pads and enormous flowers. Vines and grasses filled the space around the water, everything lush and green. The glass above had heavy droplets of water forming on it.

Harris followed automatically. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but...not this. Despite himself, he felt his mouth drop open with surprise. “Wh-What is this place?”

Jamack's expression turned to triumph and he grinned, opening the door for Harris. "I'll show you."

Again, Harris followed him without hesitation. His mouth opened even wider once they passed inside. “It’s...so warm!” he gasped with undisguised wonder. “And humid!”

Jamack chuckled. "I know it's a little dry in California for you. I thought you might like this place." He said it lightly, as though he hadn't spent months looking for panes of glass and clear plastic to cover the places where the glass had broken. Like it hadn’t taken him so much work to trim back the overgrown plants, to sweep up all the broken glass, find a way to pump clean water into the dried-up pond, steal a few giant lily pads and clean it all to Mod Frog standards. Getting your suit wet was fine, but pond scum? Not done.

“Dry...?” Now that Jamack had said it, though, Harris realized he was right. He _was_ dry. Had been his whole life. His skin drank in the extra moisture in the air, and his bones soaked in the extra few degrees of heat inside. He felt...revitalized. Rejuvenated. Like he was somewhere he _belonged_ for the first time in his life.

To his utter horror, he felt tears welling up in his eyes. Luckily there was enough water beading on his skin to hide it. Yes, so much water, just in the air itself, that not even his parched skin could swallow it all!

Jamack closed the door to seal in the heat and moisture. He let Harris stand in the entrance with an absolutely stunned expression, wading through the pond to one of the big lily pads. He sat on it, waiting for Harris to adjust, to explore. Water beaded on his skin as well and he felt just as refreshed as he would if he were submerged in warm shallow water.

“What is...? How did...?” Harris couldn’t keep the words from spilling out of him, helplessly, too many to make sense. Focus. He needed to focus. He homed in on Jamack—no, that was too much, too complicated. _Past_ Jamack. “Di-did you steal lily pads from the Pond?” he asked, absolutely incredulously.

"No! ...Not _our_ Pond, anyway. There's a pond in Wolf territory, I stole them from there." It had been difficult. But stealing a lily pad from the Mod Frog Pond would have likely gotten Jamack either severely punished or, if he had gotten away with it, put the entire Pond on high alert, which would have made his new project so much harder to work on.

Then Harris was laughing, and he couldn’t help it. “You...you stole a lily pad?” he asked, trying to pull himself together. “What? You just...rolled it up and strapped it to your dragonfly?”

Harris was laughing, and some of Jamack's tension eased. "Something like that," he said. It had actually taken multiple dragonflies, but he wasn't going to tell Harris that.

“ _Why_?” was of course the most obvious question, and Harris realized that if he’d been thinking clearly he would have asked it much sooner.

"I figured this pond could use a place to sit," Jamack said, innocently, pretending that he didn't know Harris was asking 'why' in a broader sense.

“Mm-hmm.” Unable to resist any longer, Harris followed Jamack into the pool. He’d been just aware enough to notice that Jamack hadn’t had to swim at all, wading the short distance, so Harris—being much taller—knew he didn’t need to worry about drowning.

The water was warm, warm enough that he could feel it through the leather of his shoes.

He stopped. A wild, uncontrollable urge overtook him, and why not? If he was never going to have Jamack again, why deny himself this pleasure?

He kicked off one shoe, carelessly tossed it onto the rocks surrounding the pond. Then his other shoe. Then he was madly undressing, practically tearing his clothes off.

He could feel how clean and pure the water was as it penetrated his skin, soaking him with heat and moisture that radiated through his entire body.

Grinning, he splashed over to Jamack and climbed onto the lily pad beside him, completely naked.

Jamack's eyes went wide, but he couldn't wipe the dumb grin off his face. He laughed as a now-naked Harris flopped down next to him on the lily pad. He had hoped that his gift would go over well, but he'd never even imagined it would go _this_ well! Did being properly hydrated just make Harris fantastically horny? If that was the case, Jamack was extra glad that he'd done this.

He stripped almost as quickly as Harris, but it was difficult with a wet and naked distraction practically in his lap.

Now nude, he slid over into Harris' arms with a hum of pleasure.

Harris’ erection had slipped free, and he was pleased to see Jamack’s had too. And then...

“No.” He pushed Jamack away, scrambled out from beneath him and back into the water. “No.”

Jamack frowned, staggering upright. He didn't step any closer to Harris. He didn't know what was wrong, what had happened to ruin things. "Harris?" He was acting panicked. This had been too much. Jamack had overdone it and now… Now maybe Harris was going to end it again.

Harris laughed, the sound bitter. He shook his head.

In his struggle to get away, Harris had ended up on his ass in the pond, the water almost chest deep. Jamack felt strange, towering over him, especially after Harris' attempt to escape him, as though he hadn't been just as eager as Jamack only a minute ago.

Jamack sat on the edge of the lily pad. He waited for a long moment, hoping Harris might say something, but finally it became apparent that he wasn't going to. Jamack's voice was soft. "What's wrong?"

“I can’t do this,” Harris said flatly, still shaking his head. Jamack sounded so...uncertain. As though he genuinely didn’t know why Harris was refusing him.

"This isn't exactly our first time.” Jamack managed a weak laugh. He knew that wasn’t what Harris meant, but he wanted to pretend just a little longer.

It wouldn’t be their first time breaking up, either.

“No. B-But I don’t want it to be our last.” To his shame, Harris’ voice broke. His fists clenched beneath the water. The heat and humidity that had felt so good a moment ago now made him feel sick. Smothered. Choking. He wanted, needed, to get out, but he couldn’t make his legs work.

Jamack slid down into the water with him, settling just in front of him, hiding his shock. Harris wasn’t leaving him—he was afraid _Jamack_ was leaving _him_! This wasn't just jealousy over Jamack having been approached as a potential mate, it was a fear of losing him. He reached out for Harris' hands under the water. "It won't be. It isn't. I'm not taking another mate. Don't be dense."

That drew a startled laugh out of Harris. “What? That-that’s crazy!”

Jamack gave him a look. "You thought I dug up this place and fixed it up for you so I could, what, leave you here alone?"

“Yes! No! None of this makes sense! _You_ don’t make sense!” Harris accused him.

Jamack snorted. "Maybe.” Harris was hardly an easy Frog to love, but Jamack was pretty sure he wasn’t capable of stopping. “I've already got a mate, and it's not like the Pond will be short on Tadpoles."

“You’ve already got a...” Harris wished the water would swallow him.

"Yeah— _you_ , you dumb idiot." Not a very pointed insult, but he didn’t want his words to actually hurt right now.

Harris snorted. “‘Dumb idiot’? Is that the best you can do?” He shook his head. No, that wasn’t the important part. “Me?” he asked, very quietly. “No! You can’t.”

"Maybe not publicly.” Jamack shrugged, squeezing Harris' hand. "But I like this. What we have, what we do."

“You’re _crazy_!” And yet Harris couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away. “You can’t—I won’t let you! Go!” He lifted his free hand and slapped the water, splashing both of them.

"No," Jamack said, stubbornly. "The whole point of moving up in the ranks is so I can do what I want to do. I'm not giving you up for someone I don't want."

“ _You_ ’re a dumb idiot,” Harris grumbled, but the heat was stripped from his voice. He squeezed Jamack’s hand in return. Just a fraction. Just enough that they could both deny he’d done it.

"Maybe," Jamack said, grinning. “Probably.” He moved in closer, sitting himself in Harris' lap. "I'm not going anywhere."

Harris drew in a long, shaky breath. He managed a weak grin of his own. “You... You’re sure?” he asked. His hand tightened on Jamack’s, fingers digging into his palm. “Because...because I won’t let you back out. Not after today. Not if we keep going.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not going to let someone _else_ blackmail you someday.” It wasn’t enough—or, rather, it was too much—but it was the best he could come up with.

Those words felt like a promise, like an assurance that this time they would stay together and Jamack, without a single second's thought as to whether or not it was a good idea, leaned in to kiss him.

“Jamack...!” Harris cried, horrified, but then Jamack’s mouth was there to swallow his words. It felt good, smooth and slick with water. He knew he should pull away. Wanted to pull away.

Didn’t.

And then somehow his arm was around Jamack’s waist and he was pulling him even closer, moaning as he tried to drink him in like his skin drank in the humidity.

Jamack realized only after the embrace had lasted nearly a minute that it could have gone disastrously. Finally he broke the kiss. They'd never kissed before, never talked about it, never done anything nearly so…affectionate. In the past he’d found that romantic gestures tended to scare Harris off, so he tried not to give in to his own desires that way.

He didn't move away, still pressed in close, arms around Harris.

“Get back on the lily pad.” Harris’ voice was almost a growl. He wouldn’t have thought it possible after the waves of emotion that had just crashed over him, but he was aroused again—blame mating season, he supposed. He had to take back some control, now, while he could. Even though what he really wanted was for Jamack to take control.

Jamack was a little reluctant to get out of Harris' lap, but his tone of voice was very convincing. Jamack extricated himself from Harris and sat at the edge of the lily pad. Though he'd been erect earlier, his erection had subsided with the emotional turmoil. Anticipation and excitement thudded with his heartbeat, but arousal wasn't quite there yet.

Harris crawled out of the water and onto the lily pad, stretching his limbs out to their fullest extension. He straddled Jamack and murmured against his tympanum, “Aren’t you going to mate with your...” he couldn’t come up with a better word, “…mate? It is mating season, after all.” His cheeks flushed. It was a very silly thing to say—ridiculous, even—but he’d had to say _something._

Harris' choice of words suggested to Jamack that he was offering something _else_ new to them. He slid his hands under Harris' thighs, lifting him easily and pulling him closer. He let Harris' erection nudge and slide against his cloaca and his own erection spread his cloaca wide as it grew. "You want me to fuck you?" Jamack asked, his voice low, grinding against Harris.

“I—what?” Harris blinked. After a moment he nodded, very slowly. What better to give Jamack, to entice him to stay, than what the other Frog had offered Jamack and Jamack had turned down in favour of Harris? “Yes.”

Jamack realized he had apparently misunderstood Harris' offer, but he’d gotten his approval anyway. He lifted Harris, lining up the opening of Harris’ cloaca with the tip of his erection. He moved slowly, not daring to rush, sinking into Harris' tight, slick cloaca with a groan.

“Oh!” Harris gasped. “Oh, oh!” It was all he could say for a moment. It was an overwhelming feeling, like nothing he’d ever experienced. He was cast adrift on a sea of sensations.

He swallowed hard, gasping, coming back to himself. He glanced down. “That’s not even all of it!” He gasped again. “It’s barely anything!” His wild grin was fixed in place. A long shudder rolled through him at the sight of Jamack’s erection disappearing into him. “How—how do you stand it?”

Jamack grinned back—he loved putting this expression on Harris' face during sex. Normally he only smiled while inflicting tremendous violence. "You feel so good," he said, not sure how to answer Harris' question. The truth was, he really couldn't stand it when Harris fucked him, it was absolutely overwhelming and he _still_ usually came much too quickly, even after almost a decade of being an on-again off-again couple. So far, he was pretty sure that would still be a problem on the other side of penetration too. Harris' body tightened around his erection, squeezing, but so slick and inviting that it just seemed to draw him deeper. Harris didn't weigh much, but Jamack was starting to lose control and lowering him onto his erection at an even pace was getting more difficult.

Unable to even form words now, Harris could only nod. He couldn’t look away from where Jamack parted his cloaca, slowly and inexorably stretching it wider and wider around him. Jamack was so much _thicker_ than he was. It put terrific pressure on his own erection and he let out a helpless moan.

Jamack slid deeper, Harris' body so tight around him that it felt like they were locked together. He released Harris' thighs now, letting him settle onto the lily pad. One of his hands wrapped around Harris' throat, thumb and forefinger squeezing over the thump of his heartbeat. The other hand went to Harris' erection, just squeezing gently at the base of it for now.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck...!” Harris barely managed to gasp. He’d never felt pleasure like this—hadn’t known he _could_ feel pleasure like this. It swept over him, crashing and eternal, filling every part of him until he thought he would overflow, explode.

He gritted his teeth, gasping and using the pain to draw himself back from the edge. He couldn’t cum, not yet, not while Jamack was only half in!

"Yes, yes," Jamack groaned, stroking Harris' erection, rolling his hips to start fucking Harris, sliding in and out of him with slippery ease. The slick noises their bodies made were absolutely indecent and Jamack wanted nothing more than to continue making them.

“Oh, how do you stand it?” Harris demanded again, moaning. Why had he never done this before? Would he survive doing it now?

He looked down just in time to see the last of Jamack’s erection slide into him, and the sight tipped him over the edge. He closed his eyes, hands clamping on Jamack’s waist, cloaca clamping on his erection. He shot in long, shuddering bursts across Jamack’s chest, coming so hard it was almost painful.

"Fuck!" Jamack's fingers dug into Harris’ throat as he came in him. It felt like his orgasm was being pulled out of him, drawn into Harris with every squeeze of Harris’ sensitive inner muscles. He couldn't stop. He bowed his head, thrusting helplessly into Harris until he finally finished with a long cry. Cum was already dripping out of Harris from around Jamack’s erection.

Jamack groaned, releasing Harris and lying flat on the lily pad with his mate still fully seated on his now-dwindling erection.

Harris rode him down, limbs wrapped around him in something between amplexus and his sleeping-huddle. Between the sex, the heat, and the humidity, he was filled with a deep...contentment he’d never known before, and it terrified him. He was afraid he’d never experience it again, that it could be taken away now that he’d felt it just once and if he had to go back to the way it was before, it would be so much worse, because he’d _know_...

He pulled himself free with a naughty squelch that made him laugh despite himself and sprawled beside Jamack. He couldn’t help making sure their fingers were entwined.

Jamack squeezed his hand, a fierce affection coursing through him. Harris was here, he loved this place and he’d called himself Jamack’s mate. Nothing could feel better than this.

**Author's Note:**

> Integrity drew us fan art!! Check it out here: https://enbyintegrity.tumblr.com/post/634539920456892416/had-to-doodle-this-really-quick-because-that-one


End file.
